where the writers are
The Park

Sitting at the park at school is amazing. All of last school year and the beginning of this year, I walked through the park to get to class; I watched students sleep, study, sing, and sulk as I cut through to get to class. They strolled through the park, sat in the shade, read a good book, had a group discussion, even checked their email, cross-legged, with their Macbooks in their laps and the sun shining on their screens, while I hurried back from class through the park to the library and stared at the screen of the computer on the first floor, lit by weak flourescent lights...no sunshine, no grass, no trees, no passers-by. Just me and the computer screen, as I took the online quiz for my statistics class or edited the last draft (hopefully...) of my essay. Why did it feel like I was the only one who had work to do? That guy with the long hair was still playing his guitar as I trekked once again across the park for the last time. I suspected that all these students who lounged in the park were probably not biology majors. If I continued with my bio classes, no park lounging was in my future.

As I rush to my biology class, I come across students in sweatshirts and sweatpants. All of them. Their clothes screams "UCI" in every possible font and font size. Across the leg of the pants, across the top of the hoodie, across the zipper, everywhere. They own almost the whole bookstore's gear. I guess they're the ones who actually benefit from the bookstore's sales that advertise that everything except books is on clearance. Then I walk (across the park again) to get to my humanities class. I pass by the dressed-up girl who I always see at this time walking out of Humanities Hall. Her hair and make-up definitely took her longer than it took me to walk across the park 4 times today. And there's Dashing Daryll with his urban look. I definitely can't compare these guys with the sweatshirt junkies of BioSci. Lounging in the park and dressing up are things the future doctors, engineers, pharmacists, scientists and researchers have no time for. You only dress up if you're preparing to be a thinker or a writer or a soul-searcher...No hard-core professionals are allowed to look good at school. And no humanities, music, and art majors are allowed to wear sweats. It's the unsaid rule. Of course, there are the exceptions...They're the brave ones.

So, like i said, I love the park. I actually got to sit there a few weeks ago. I sat on a piece of notebook paper torn out of my chem notebook for fearing of soiling my clothes with the earth that I thought I loved. It turns out I like to look at the grass and the bugs and the nature that surrounds that bench in the shade...Yes, that one, by the hill, near the big tree. No, not that tree. That tree. Sitting in it idly is a whole other story. Sitting in the grass when I could be finishing up my reading for my Spanish Literature and Culture class or solving some Chemistry problems? I'd rather walk through the park and listen to the music that guy with the shoulder-length hair non-challantly plays. I have classes to get to, work to do. The library's alright..even with its dim flourescent lights that come nowhere near the beautiful, unwavering sun. And yes, I do secretly enjoy the few minutes of bliss that I spend walking through the park. I do thoroughly enjoy the feeling of squishy, recently-watered grass beneath my feet. I do enjoy feeling the sun's warmth on my face and seeing butterflies travel from tree to tree. I do.

 

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Heidi, I want you to take me

Heidi, I want you to take me on one of these quick strolls across the park and show me all the things you told about.

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I'd love to! I haven't been

I'd love to!

I haven't been on RedRoom in so long, but I read your posts recently...I love them. Something's changed...Tell me what it is!